


Junior Winchester

by super_rainbow2021



Series: NaNoWriMo 2019 [24]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abused character, Abused child, Abusive Fathers, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angels, Buckle up, Chronic Illness, Chronic Migraines, Dean Whump, Dean Winchester Whump, Demons, Denial, Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Hunters, Hyperventilating, M/M, Murder, OC whump, Panic Attacks, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Psychics, Revenge, Sam Whump, Sam Winchester Whump, Traumatized character, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Whump, Wincest - Freeform, Witches, abusive hospital staff, character whump, dean is gung-ho, do not anger the hufflepuff, eidetic character - reading, essentially orphaned character, fucked up character, hello angst, i have like 200 pages of possible content written so far, i hope you enjoy the ride, it will not bode well, junior is a hufflepuff, junior just wants a real family, manipulative town mayor, poor junior, protective jaci reyer, protective junior winchester, psychic witch, sam and dean adopt an abused psychic girl, sam is hesitant, she gets real fierce lemme tell you, suicidal thoughts but no actions, there's a lot of this kind of angstiness sorry, unable to verbalize trauma as abuse, welcome to my complicated spn au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 02:11:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20499191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/super_rainbow2021/pseuds/super_rainbow2021
Summary: Dean couldn't look away. He just couldn't. She was so tiny; definitely too thin for her age and nearly a full foot shorter than him, and the way she was crouching under that bench ...He knew. He had to get her out of there.





	Junior Winchester

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to My Complicated SPN AU! I have had this idea in my head since 2017 and have been dutifully (albeit flaky) writing Junior's story as sad and tragic as I can. This will feature not only my complicated Supernatural AU, but include other shows such as Numb3rs, Criminal Minds, NCIS (And NCIS:LA) as well as throw Junior in various portals to other worlds (just wait for Telekinetic Avenger). There is no update schedule, so do not ask (I am a very busy person), and while I do have everything eventually planned out, I have not connected all the dots yet. But I'll get there. Junior will get her happy ending ... eventually. There's a shit ton of angst in SPN (you should know that) and Junior tends to hog all of it. 
> 
> That said, Junior is my baby and I want you all to love her.

.º.º.º.º.

Dean had rolled them into some small no-name town in Nebraska on a possible hunt. It turned out that it was the vengeful spirit of a mother who lost her child. Done and done, no messy salt and burn, and they were about to leave. That is, it would be the case if Sam hadn't wanted to stop by the local library, leaving Dean to wander the streets because _I'm not a nerd like you, Sammy._ It was late afternoon, the sun was just starting to set, and he happened across a bench. _What the hell, Sam's probably gonna be a little while, might as well sit and relax._

Dean eased himself onto the bench and got comfortable. For a few minutes he looked around, smiling at the girls who gave him a second look, lounging and looking appealing. Then, he felt something under his thigh. He must have sat on something without realizing and it moved when he shifted. Dean raises his leg and hooks his fingers around what might be a chain? He pulls it out and, sure enough, it's a metal chain with a rose gold pendant; it’s flat on the back and on the front it has stones on one side and some kind of engraving on the other. "What …" he mumbles.

It's then that he hears a whimper. Dean's head snaps up, and he looks around for the source. The people walking around him were thinning out and paying no attention. He turns the other way and his fingers brush the bushy plant behind him. Another whimper, more drawn out, almost like a whine. He surveys again and the white toe of a sneaker catches his attention underneath him. Dean's eyebrows knit; he slides off the bench and crouches in front of the person underneath.

It's a girl, a _young_ girl, dressed in a faded gray sweatshirt and light blue jeans, with long honey brown hair and fists pushed against her eyes. A shudder goes through her shoulders and she whimpers again, and Dean can see tears trickling down her face.

"Hey, what's wrong kid?" She jumps at his voice and begins muttering a mantra of _I'm sorry, don't hurt me, I'll do better._ Dean shakes his head. "No, kid, I'm not going to hurt you. I just wanna know what's wrong."

"He's … " Dean strains his ears at the wavering whisper,  " … trouble"

"Trouble?" Dean asks. The necklace in his hand grows warmer, and the girl whimpers again. _This is getting freaky,_ he thinks and steels himself for a possible job. He'd been trying to help Sam with his visions but this is so different from him … and at the same time so very _very_ similar.

"He's in trouble,"  the girl barely manages, one of her fists slowly uncurling and stretching for Dean's- the one with the necklace. He places the pendant into her hand, and immediately her shoulders soften and she lets out a low sigh. The fist still clenched to her face uncurls to rub at her temple, but she still shakes.

“Kid—” Dean starts but she then looks at him, _into_ him, and her green eyes and freckles are so like his. Her pupils are pinpoint dots. _Freaky._

"The library," she whispers, still in the wispy, airy, high-pitched voice.  "Trouble at the library." Her eyes flutter but she holds her pendant to her chest.

_Not Sammy._ "Who's in trouble at the library?" The girl's eyes are unfocused, and glance around lazily. She then gasps as her eyes focus on him again, but she doesn't have to say anything before he stands up.

_"Sam."_

.º.º.º.º.

"Sammy!" Dean bursts into the library Sam had gone to, scared ( but not that he'd ever tell anyone ) and worried ( who wouldn't be? ) but still there enough to remember not to yell. There isn't anyone he can see inside the library as he makes his way to where there aren't any windows. Sam was hunched against the wall, knees pulled up to his chest, a salt circle around him. The books he was reading were thrown around him, open to random pages. A fist is held to his head, his eyes scrunched tight and teeth clenched. "Sammy," Dean says quieter, crouching beside him.

Sam doesn't _whimper_ per se, and Dean would swear he didn't if Sam ever questioned him, but the man is in pain. “It’s—thing,” Sam tries to get out, gasping a little, "Was looking—at the book. Got a vision. It’s—” He yells this sort of noise, one hand flailing out to grasp Dean's outstretched one. "Girl. Abuse. She—she looks like you … ?” Dean's breath hitches. Looks like him? _The girl … _Sam's breath hitches this time as he says, "There's a demon—some kind of demon … causing abuse." He gasps in a breath before his grip on Dean loosens, and he sighs out a blissful sound. His hand rubs at his eyes and temple before he peers through his bangs at his brother. "There's a demon who took the anger of her father and amplified it, causing the abuse." Sam then winces as another wave hits him sharply. "I guess when I was trying to record everything from this job, it sensed me? And man, it did _not_ like that."

"But you're good now?" Dean asks as he stands back up, brushing his pants and holding his arm out for Sam. The younger gives him a look, about to say something but he stops and sighs, taking the arm and standing back up unsteadily. Sam also picks up the books he was reading and puts them back at the table he was sitting at while Dean uses his feet to spread the salt around so it disappears into the carpet. "So," he says, getting Sam's attention again, "this girl. Besides looking almost as good as me, did you get anything else?"

Sam gives him another look, more scrutinous this time. Dean just smiles at him, closed mouth with a little shake of his head, saying _Get on with it little brother_ with his face. "Yeah," he says, "she has a pendant with healing symbols engraved on it."

"So that's what those were," Dean mumbles, ignoring the _What?! _and not sticking around to hear anymore as he starts making his way back to the bench he found her at. Sam's still giving Dean this weird look, like _I know you're hiding something and while I don't like it, you obviously know what you're doing. Jerk._

"So you've seen the girl, then?" he asks instead, but still can't get an answer from Dean. He follows his older brother outside, and it's just dark enough for the street lamps to turn on. Dean ignores Sam as he reaches the bench he was sitting on, only to stop short. 

The girl is sprawled under the bench, hair splayed out under her, fist still clenching the amulet, and eyes rolled to the back of her head. She's twitching every few seconds, her left arm resting over her stomach, hand clenching and unclenching the sleeve of the sweater she's wearing. Dean carefully drags her across the grass, pulling her out from under the bench, and winces when he sees just how _tiny_ she is. "Don't suppose you got her name from your … did you get her name?"

Sam doesn't say anything, if only because he knows acknowledging the visions is still hard for Dean. He catches Sam's eye but he shakes his head. "I'm pretty sure she has a phone, though."

Dean lets go of her with one hand as he checks her pockets, finding the iPhone and hitting the power button. The lock screen photo was a name—Jaci Reyer. Dean's eyebrows knit again; he’s having a hard time believing this girl's father's behavior is only caused by some demon. It’s sounding more like a demigod at this rate, though one that likes misery instead of mischief. _Alright,_ "Jaci, come on kid, wake up."

The girl stirs, twitching more, before whining and clutching the sleeve of her sweater hard. Her eyes slit, opening just enough for Dean to see unfocused green eyes looking up at him. "Jaci, wake up."

Finally the girl's eyes open fully, though they flinch back shut immediately. Jaci groans as she sits up, holding her head and ruffling her hair. Dean backs off but stays crouched; maybe this kid gets spooked by tall, intimidating people. She pulls her legs in to cross them, and hunches for a second as she gets her bearings.

"Jaci?" Sam asks softly, crouching down with Dean. The girl suddenly stills, brings her hands down and straightens her shoulders.

"I have to get back,"  she whispers and stands, plucking her phone out of the grass. She sticks it in her jeans pocket and walks briskly away, ignoring Sam and Dean as she holds her head.

"Well, that was weird," Sam says as he stands back up. He pulls Dean up and they share a look.

.º.º.º.º.

Stupid. _Stupid, how could you be so stupid?!_ Whoever those men were, they couldn't be trusted.  _But they helped me! The shorter one … _ No. Stupid. Don't think about them. He'll know.  _He'll know_ … 

Jaci's lip trembles as she tries not to look back at the man who helped her ( twice ). She wasn't even supposed to be out here. It's _well_ past time to get back and if _he_ finds out she had a vision back there, _about_ the two men, he'll …

Jaci's thoughts skid to a halt when she looks up at the white porch and door frame of the place she's called home her entire life. _He_ isn't here, not yet, but she needs to act like she's been here since school let out.  _A shower,_ she thinks. She normally showers at night. This won't seem out of the ordinary.

As soon as she steps out of her room with a new set of clothes, she's on edge. He still hasn't come back. Usually, he comes back when she's in the shower. But she showered earlier than she normally does, so… Cautiously, she sets her laptop on the dining room table and opens it. Might as well get some work done while she waits. Minutes go by and the thought of _him_ escapes her mind.

Then the door unlocks and her breath stops.

.º.º.º.º.

Dean sits on his bed in deep thought. It had been too late to start driving, both Dean and Sam exhausted from the hunt— not to mention the added exhaustion of Sam's … vision. He usually can't sleep on nights like these, what with Sam fighting the nightmares the visions bring, but tonight … 

He can't stop thinking about that girl.

That _tiny _little girl who looked like she was suffering. The way she got so scared when Dean first spoke to her. How she steeled herself to leave, and that tremble he noticed in her hands. She was terrified of _something,_ he just didn't know what … Maybe her father? That would make sense, but what kind of demon/demigod would care about this kind of thing?

Sam makes a noise over where he's sprawled, and Dean turns to look at him. Sam had collapsed almost as soon as they stepped foot into the room, and hasn't moved since. But he's moving now, squirming as he makes little noises of discomfort. Dean stands in between their beds, gently laying a hand on Sam's thigh and sliding it up his back. The sleeping man lets out a sigh, soothed slightly, and shifts so he's laying on his side. His face isn't twisted like it is from a nightmare ( though his brows are still knit ) but Dean stands there a few seconds more. Sam looks almost peaceful; no resting bitch face or teasing smirk. That stupid mop of hair actually frames his face just so that he looks kind of cute.

Dean turns back to his bed. _Bad thoughts_. 

.º.º.º.º.

When Dean wakes, it's to a smiling Sam in his face. The older man jerks back, turning onto his stomach and shoving his face in the pillow, groaning. "Why're you s'appy?" he asks with a sleep-slur.

Sam's smile doesn't falter, but he sets a piping hot cup of coffee next to Dean on the rickety nightstand. The smell is what gets Dean to roll back over, because it isn't the crappy motel coffee from the maker over next to the TV—the smell isn't all over the room. "D'you go an' get coffee?" Dean asks as he shimmies closer to sniff the suspicious cup.

Sam nods and walks back over to his open laptop, a similar cup sitting beside it. "Drink that, it's good stuff. Then we'll talk about what I found." He's got a sliver of pride in his words, head bobbing from side to side like he knows something Dean doesn't. Dean stares with suspicion but eventually sits up, blanket pulled up to his shoulders, and sips the drink.

Wow. That is some damn good coffee. _Definitely_ not the complementary shit the motel gives them— must be from the coffee from the shop around the corner. "You didn' spend good money on good coffee for no reason, so spit't out," he mumbles and takes another sip, sliding his legs to the side and standing up. He slaps his face to wake himself up more before walking over to where Sam had sat down in front of his laptop.

Sam takes a sip of his own coffee, straightening the paper he'd gotten from the motel office. "There's a possible job in Colorado, something about people dying near the full moon. There wasn't much history behind it all, and the killings only started happening a few months ago, but I think it might be something as simple as a werewolf."

Dean snorts as he sets a hand on the back of Sam's chair, taking another sip of his coffee before looking over the papers and articles Sam has gathered. "When have things ever been simple fr’us, Sammy?" he asks, and misses how Sam frowns at him. "Although, this does look kinda straightforward." He claps Sam on the shoulder, no longer as startling as it was when they first started Hunting together again. "I'm gonna shower and then we'll head out, mkay?" He turns before Sam can give an answer, so Sam just gives a small smile. Once Dean is safely behind the bathroom door, Sam pulls out another paper from his bag.

There was something about that girl that got to him, whether it was the vision she had or that she was clearly scared of whoever would find out she wasn’t home. He did some digging while Dean was still asleep, and _man_ did he find some juicy stuff.

Most, if not all, of the children in the town have been admitted into the hospital _at least once _for broken bones, need of stitches, and other physical trauma. If that wasn’t alarming enough, literally _all_ of the adults turn a blind eye to the kids in need. Now, in Jaci’s case, her mother had died in childbirth, so she was raised solely by her father. No other relatives were around. She had an okay childhood, up until she turned six. _That_ was when she and everyone else started showing up to school with bruises and blood on their clothes, and that was only reported when an out of state journalist decided to write something up. She suspiciously went missing two days after it was published, and hasn’t been heard from since. After the journalist went missing, Jaci was admitted into the hospital for a two-day stay for several broken bones and internal bleeding. It’s honestly a miracle that she’s still breathing after all that’s happened to her.

Sam leans back as he goes over the notes he’s gathered on the small Nebraska town. It definitely _seems_ like there might be a job here, but nothing like they’d been up against before. The full moon killings in Colorado seem much more up their alley; familiar territory. They can always come back to town once they’re done, Sam supposes, but only if he can convince his brother. He checks his phone and muses that the trip from the motel to Colorado Springs might take three and a half hours. If they can track the werewolf quickly, they can make it back here by nightfall and figure out just what in the hell is going on here. With that thought in mind, Sam picks up all his research and manages to pack it all somewhat neatly by the time Dean steps back in from the shower with just a pair of jeans slung loosely over his hips. Sam has to swallow and look away, offering to take his things out to the Impala along with the extra equipment they brought in last time. He doesn’t see Dean’s confused face glance back at him or the way he bites his lip for a split second thinking _Maybe I shouldn’t have teased him._

.º.º.º.º.

Sam works as tirelessly on the road as he can without internet, and he thinks he has a solid lead on the werewolf by the time they’re pulling into a shabby ( even by their standards ) motel. The five-foot tall girl stays in the back of his mind the whole way, simmering on the back burner just hot enough that when he and Dean fall back into the Impala, Sam in the driver’s seat and Dean still nursing a dislocated shoulder, he thrusts the map at his brother.

“Where to next, Sammy? Already got a job for us?” There’s something underneath his joking tone that suggests both worry and hope.

“Since I’m the one driving,” he can’t help but gloat, “you can direct me back to Chappell.”

Dean’s brows furrow for a moment as he tries to sit up a little straighter and he tugs the map open. Drawn from where they currently are to Chappell, Nebraska is a thin red line from the fine point Sharpie Sam likes to use when plotting course. “Isn’t that where we just were?”

Sam nods and hums an affirmative tone. He glances over at his brother and catches the hope in his eyes again. “We have unfinished business there.”

Dean looks up at him and nods. “How did you manage to do any research between sleeping and looking up this job?”

Sam shrugs, turning out of the motel parking lot and back onto the road they came into town on. “You like to sleep late. And I think my body is still on Stanford Schedule.” He is, of course, referring to when he was in college, but he doesn’t mention it with the intent to dredge up bad memories. “Plus, I like to research.”

Dean lifts an eyebrow and looks back down at the map. “No doubt about that, Sammy. So what’d you find?”

“Someone there hates kids. Like, _hates _hates. Every single child in that town has been in the hospital before. Jaci, the girl we found, has had the worst track record starting when she was six, and now she’s almost seventeen.”

Dean’s eyebrows had shot up to his hairline as Sam was talking, and now his eyes widen. “Jesus,” he mutters. Sam just nods and drives. “So, what were you thinking?”

The younger hums. “Probably not a demon and at this rate, it’s not looking like a demigod either. But we need to do some recon around the town to find out more.” Deans nods again at his brother and fills the car with his music, but the fact that Sam doesn’t even complain about it doesn’t bode well.

.º.º.º.º.

**Author's Note:**

> I will be adding tags to reflect the content that comes out. I'm saltycaramelnut on tumblr, and if you have any questions, send them to me here or there!


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